


Who Fears Templars When There is an Attack Ferret?

by HeroMaggie



Series: Ser Chompy brings people together [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders and Fenris are friends, Anders and Ser Chompy have dinner dates, Fluff, Hawke is a bit of a gossip, M/M, Ser Chompy makes an excellent attack ferret, Smiting but it'll be ok, canon type violence, pre-fenders - Freeform, templar attack, though there are shades of more perhaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders is having a dinner-date with Ser Chompy when the clinic is invaded by Templars.</p><p>The Templars were not anticipating Ser Chompy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Fears Templars When There is an Attack Ferret?

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help myself. I had this vision of Fenris leaping at Templars as a ferret and then attacking as a naked elf and just...defending Anders and I had to write this.
> 
> Yes, yes - this is leading to romance...
> 
> At least a good Fenris/Anders' hair romance...

“Rumor has it that Broody and you were seen cuddling,” Varric said conversationally as they hiked back from Sundermount. “Any truth in that?”

Anders glanced over at the dwarf and made a face. Fenris wasn’t with them, because Hawke knew how the elf felt about the Dalish. And because Merrill had needed help with a thing for her mirror - Anders’ hadn’t been paying attention when Hawke had told him. He had only agreed to go with Hawke and his blood mage girlfriend because his stock of herbs was running low and the path to the Dalish camp was littered with elfroot.

He hadn’t been out with the group since the entire Hadriana incident, since Hawke had found him and Fenris leaning against each other in his clinic. Anders supposed his friend couldn’t be blamed for gossiping, though he would blame Hawke all the same. It wasn’t something he wanted to discuss; it wasn’t something Fenris wanted to discuss, either.

“So...no comment?” Varric prodded Anders’ and gave him a grin. “I’ll take that for an affirmative. Rivaini is going to be dying for more information.”

“It’s nothing, Varric.” Anders mumbled. “I watched his ferret and we had a talk, that’s it.”

“Just a talk?” Varric raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Hawke said…”

“Hawke says a lot of things,” Anders pointed out. “And is a romantic. Which is why we walked all this way to kill a giant elven beast for an elven tool to be used on a demon-infested mirror.”

Hawke glanced back over his shoulder and smiled at Anders, “It was a fun fight! Did you see the way Merrill pulled it down with vines? I mean, ok, we could have used a warrior but we did great! And the mirror isn’t demon-infested. At least not anymore, right Merrill?”

“Right. The demon I spoke with helped me cleanse the mirror. The tool is to help fix it,” Merrill clarified.

“Right. He’s also a lunatic,” Anders said in response, one hand flying out to point at his friend. “An absolute lunatic dating another lunatic.”

“Hmm,” Varric stroked his chin, silent and watchful. Finally, just when Anders had thought the conversation had been dropped he tilted his head and smiled, “I think you protest a bit much there, Blondie. And I’m looking forward to writing this next story.”

“Andraste’s flaming nipples,” Anders gritted out, stomping ahead to walk in front of Hawke. He hunched his shoulders a bit against the laughter from his friends and made a mental note to warn Fenris about this. He would be seeing him tonight for dinner and time with Ser Chompy. Better to warn Fenris now than have this dumped in his lap at the next Wicked Grace night.

***

“You should be glad you didn’t come with us. It was terrible. I got goop in my boots and didn’t find nearly as many elfroot plants as normal,” Anders groused as he started laying out supper. Up on his shoulder, Fenris chittered and patted at his ear. “I could have just stayed here and we could have played. Or napped.”

Fenris nuzzled around Anders’ neck, found the mage’s hair tie, and started chewing. It was pure reflex - see the hair tie, chew the hair tie. He had brought the mage a small pouch filled with them - presenting it with a shy, sheepish smile that had Anders laughing. Now he was working at getting this hair tie out of Anders’ hair.

He wasn’t sure why - was it the hair tie he was after or the long hair to snuggle in? On the one hand, having things in his hidden cache made Fenris’ ferret heart just fill with joy. On the other hand, Anders’ hair was glorious and soft and fun to roll in. It was, he thought as his teeth worried at the hair tie, a win-win situation.

“Fenris! Quit it!” Anders was laughing, patting back at his neck. Fenris chattered and with one finally chomp, got the hair tie loose. Anders’ hair swung loosely around his face and the mage gave up and just sat down, shoulders shaking with laughter. “You crazed weasel!”

Fenris was too busy holding the hair tie in his little paws, a look of bliss on his face, to care what the mage was saying. His chittering sounded self-satisfied, as if he was offering himself congratulations.

“I have food out. I may not have found any elfroot but the dalish had some fresh eggs and their hunters had a brace of pheasants. I bartered for one - did some healing, got you a pheasant and a few fresh eggs.” Those words had Fenris perking up and scurrying down Anders’ arm, hair tie immediately forgotten.

He had just settled on the table next to Anders when the door to the clinic was shoved open hard enough to make the wall shake. The sound of Anders’ chair scraping back as he stood was muffled by the clank of armor as three templar strode into the clinic. One headed straight for them, the other two taking up spots near the open door.

“Ah...and just what do we have here, boys? Seems like we’ve finally gotten the drop on the Darktown Healer, eh? And at dinner. We can nab ourselves an apostate and have a meal!” The lead templar sounded like he was leering - though it was hard to tell with the full-face helmet. Anders gave a growl and then groaned, sinking to his knees as the smite hit him. “Now now, good apostates don’t make noise. They just shut up and do what they’re told.”

There was a rather loud squeak of anger and then Fenris was flying from the table. It was a ferret that hit the ground, but it was a naked elf wreathed in blue fade-energy that lunged at the templar. Fenris’ fist slammed into the first one, solidified for a moment, and the ghosted back out - the heart of the templar held in one now-bloody fist.

“You should run,” Fenris advised with a growl.

“He’s got an...attack...elf!” One of the remaining templar yelled.

“Pull yourself together. The elf is naked,” The other brought up his shield and lifted his sword. “Naked and unarmed.”

“He yanked Byron’s heart out of his chest. He’s a demon elf!” Templar number one cowered a bit. “I didn’t sign up to fight demon elves.”

“No, you signed up to attack defenseless healers,” Fenris growled, advancing slowly, watching the sword arm on templar number two. Fenris’ armor and sword were near them. He just needed to reach them and end this. “Leave. Now.”

“To the void with you!” Templar number two screamed, charging.

Fenris waited and dodged, rolling over a cot and then sprinting across the clinic to his sword. He shoved templar number one as he ran by, the man screaming in terror as Fenris’ brands flashed. The templar wavered on his feet and went down, the smell of urine starting to permeate the air.

Sword in hand, Fenris turned and gave templar number two a wide grin. “Too late. Should have run when you had a chance.”

“Shut up knife-ear,” Templar number two hissed, advancing. “You don’t scare me. Frank always was a bit of a tit.”

“Frank was the smart one,” Fenris said, activating his brands again and moving to engage to the last templar - who was distracted by Anders throwing a stool at him.

“Get out of my clinic!” Anders screamed. “Out!”

The templar turned at the yelling and loosed a smite, “Stay down you. I’ll finish this knife-ear and then…” He didn’t get to finish the sentence. There was a wet gurgle and then Fenris thrusting his sword fully through the templar’s breastplate. A single tug and his sword was pulled back, the templar falling.

“Are you alright, mage?” Fenris took in the three fallen templars - two dead and one passed out from fright.

“Yes. Thank you, yes. Maker…” Anders was gasping, that last smite having finished off what little resistance he had left.

Fenris walked to the still-breathing templar and thrust down, ignoring Anders’ sharp inhale. “He would have awoken and turned you in.” Fenris explained.

“What am I going to do with three dead templars?” Anders moaned, trying to pull himself up and finding his body unwilling to do much more than flounder on the ground.

“Mage...Anders…” Fenris dropped his sword and swiftly moved to Anders’ side, gripping the mage under his under arms and hoisting him up. “Come, let us get you on your stool.”

“I’ll be alright. One smite is bad but two pretty much lays me out for the night,” Anders panted and slid onto his stool, hands patting Fenris’ shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Does this happen often?” Fenris gently brushed back blond hair. “Anders?”

“What? Oh, no. No. Varric keeps a guard outside, I’m usually warned. Maybe they did something to one of the guards...II wouldn’t be surprised if Hawke isn’t on his way here as we speak.” Anders’ hands twisted together. “He’s been, ah, Varric knows you were here. With me. When Hawke found us…”

“Say no more, mage,” Fenris patted Anders’ hair lightly, hand brushing over the mage’s cheek. “Calm yourself.” There was a mischievous grin and then Fenris disappeared, the sound of ferret chittering replacing the quiet laughter from the elf.

“Good plan,” Anders nodded in appreciation, watching with amusement as Fenris turned to look at the templars. “They are rather shiny, aren’t they?”

There was a distinct giggle from Fenris and then he was rushing across the room to nose at the side of one templar breastplate. A few seconds of rabid chewing and one, shiny buckle pinged to the clinic floor. Fenris gave another giggle and went to work on a second buckle.

***

Ten minutes later and Anders was cracking an egg into a dish for Fenris, the two of them back at the table. The clinic door slamming open made them both turn their heads. This time it was Hawke, Varric, and Merrill stomping through the door, the three of them coming up short at the sight of dead templars.

“I...Anders?” Hawke blinked at the templars and then at his friend. “Are you alright?”

“Yep!” Anders smiled, pushing the dish of egg over to Fenris. “Here you go Ser Chompy.”

“What...how...they are all stabbed. Except for this one who...ew. Is that his heart over there?” Hawke was prodding the corpses. “Did Fenris do this?”

Anders just hummed and took a bite of meat pie, brushing crumbs out of his stubble. “Took you guys long enough. I would have been on my way to the Gallows by now you know?”

“Is that Fenris’ ferret?” Merrill gave a coo and rushed to the table, little hands stroking over Fenris’ fur. “Oh, but isn’t he a handsome little man.”

“This is Ser Chompy,” Anders said conversationally, watching Varric and Hawke examine the corpses.

“Anders, why are the breastplates missing buckles?” Varric asked.

“No clue,” Anders said, taking another bite of meat pie. Next to him, Fenris giggled, scurrying up Anders’ arm to wrap around his neck. “Ser Chompy, did you take the buckles?”

Fenris chattered and then bit Anders’ ear, making the mage chuckle. “Ser Chompy refuses to answer the question.”

“Maker, you and that ferret.” Hawke sighed. “So...you won’t tell me what happened? How they died? Why one of them is missing a heart?” He sighed again when Anders simply smiled.

“We’ll get this handled, Blondie, no worries,” Varric said.

“You should stay with me tonight,” Hawke threw a worried look at Anders. “In case they send more.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me,” Anders said with a wave of his hand. “I have a very scary attack ferret here. I’m perfectly safe.”

Anders’ laugh blended in with Fenris’ giggling and both ignored the looks of amusement and concern on their friends’ faces.

“More egg, Ser Chompy?” Anders asked with mock seriousness.

The responding chatter almost sounded like a “Yes please,” as Fenris romped down Anders’ arm and across the table to his dish.


End file.
